


Sometimes You Just Want to Lick an Archer’s Arms

by MrHyde



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Frottage, Kinda, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, basically a quickie of just hysterical horny rubbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrHyde/pseuds/MrHyde
Summary: If there's one thing to take away from the MCU, it's that Clint Barton has some painfully lickable arms. Peter mirrors the author's desperation for that. Short and very, very horny.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Peter Parker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Sometimes You Just Want to Lick an Archer’s Arms

**Author's Note:**

> deal with it

Peter was over it. He was over the way Clint teased him like a little brother, he was over the constant supply of skin tight, sleeveless shirts, he was over drooling over Clint’s thick, toned, terrifyingly controlled arms. So one day, when they were sparring and Clint had him in a headlock, Peter decided, fuck it. He bit down on the archer’s broad bicep, his mouth wide and firm as his tongue laved over the bulging muscles. Clint took it as a challenge at first, expecting Peter to try to draw blood, and flexed his arms to try to dislodge the boy. He didn’t expect the boy to moan like a practiced whore and start grinding his ass back against Clint, tongue moving desperately to taste the sweaty skin. Clint wrestled him fully flat to the ground, trying to get him to stop squirming. But his round cheeks only moved more wildly and desperately against the archer’s groin, which was rapidly getting hard. 

“Whoa kid, what the hell’s going on?! Peter? Kid, what the fuck!” Peter sealed his lips over the meaty arm, worshipping it with his tongue, and lifted his hips off the floor, so Clint had no choice but to put the full weight of his hips on Peter’s pert ass. The boy bounced up against the pronounced girth in Clint’s workout pants, rubbing and grinding, tasting the bulging tricep he was running his teeth over. “Jesus, Pete—shit—I like where this is going but where the fuck did it start?” He loosened his grip slightly, and Peter turned in his arms, and ripped Clint’s tight muscle tee in half.

“I. hate. this. fucking. shirt.” He grabbed Clint’s other arm and latched onto it with his mouth, whining loudly and rolling his hips against Clint’s. That’s when the archer noticed the sizable mark on his arm, and everything clicked into place. Peter choked slightly as Clint’s rough hand wrapped around his neck, pinning him to the ground. Peter tried to moan, and when that failed, he shoved his gym shorts to the ground, stroking his raging dick with fervor as Clint choked him.  
Clint stared at his nakedness for a second, then turned back to the kid with a smirk. “Oh, you like my strong arms? That’s what this is about? You wanna taste my muscles?” Peter nodded vigorously, tears of desperation filling his eyes as he searched for friction with his hips. “Fine.” Clint flipped under Peter, his back against the ropes of the ring, Peter kneeling between his legs. Clint grabbed Peter’s hair lightly and pulled his face to his exposed stomach. “Lick your way up. I’ll give you what you want.” Peter was already sliding his mouth over the lines of his abs, feeling the warmth and tension beneath them. “Hey. Eyes on me, dirty boy.” Peter’s looked past his toned pecs and tight shoulders to see Hawkeye looking down at him and—flexing. Arms extended by his ears, vascular and beefy and toned and covered in Peter’s bite marks. Peter groaned in lust, licking up to lave his tongue over Clint’s dark pink nipple, swirling and sucking and giving just a hint of a bite that made Clint curse. He kept his eyes on Clint, even as he whimpered and rubbed his own hardness against Clint’s thigh, his cock. Clint bit his lip in concentration for a second, then said fervently, “Get your ass up here,” pulling Peter until he was set firmly on top of Clint’s bulging crotch, straddling the archer. Clint was in a full sweat by now, a combination of half a workout and trying to wrangle a kinky teen superhero. He kept his arms up, and didn’t need to say anything for Peter to start rubbing his ass on Clint again, and licking and sucking every inch of his ropy archer’s arms. Clint could tell the kid had used his hips like this before, the way he flicked his ass back and lifted it slightly on the way forward, bouncing occasionally, constantly changing direction, maintaining his hysterical pace. He didn’t have time to wonder who else Peter had ridden like this, he just thanked God that Peter was such a good learner.  
Clint was NOT going to last much longer. Peter’s unprecedented skill level, the fact that the only thing separating Peter’s bare ass from Clint’s dick was skin tight compression pants. He didn’t stand a chance. Peter was nearly vibrating against his cock.

“F—Fuck, Peter, damn your ass, you’re gonna make me cum, ohshitohshitohshitshitshit.” Peter bit firmly into the meat of Clint’s shoulder, hands on his lithe chest for leverage as—“Shit, fuck, f—FUCK!” Clint shouted as his cock throbbed with cum, slamming his fist down into the ground. 

Which broke under his fist.

Which made Peter cum all over Clint’s chest with a shriek of arousal, gracefully muffled by the marked up arms of the man under him. They caught their breath, and Clint threaded his fingers in Peter’s hair, pulling his mouth over the twitching bulge in his pants. Peter mouthed lazily at it. Some of the cum had soaked through the shorts, and Peter licked it up. They lay on top of each other, just breathing.

“So…arms?”

Peter replied, “Your arms, yeah.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Thanks, by the way.”

“Anytime.”


End file.
